


how cruel is the golden rule

by kanicro



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Guilt, Post-Canon, does this count as
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 03:07:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15654489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanicro/pseuds/kanicro
Summary: “I think I envy you,” Connor says.Markus and Connor have a conversation on a rooftop.





	how cruel is the golden rule

**Author's Note:**

> ...the 'Golden Rule', otherwise known as the ethic of reciprocity: "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you".

“I think I envy you,” Connor says.

Markus looks over at him. His gaze is fixed on the horizon, watching the sun melt into the clouds and line them with gold. The sunset catches on his hair and warms his eyes, turning them honey-brown. His brows are furrowed and, as Markus watches, his LED spins, blue slowly overtaking the yellow that had lingered there as he'd considered what he wanted to say.

“Why?” Markus asks, tone careful. Connor turns to meet his eyes, examining them carefully, as if he’s searching for something in them.

“I…” Connor's mouth quirks into a smile briefly, “I'm not really sure.” 

The expression fades, but Connor's face isn't quite blank - his eyebrows are pulled up at the centre, the curve of his lips betraying his upset. Markus watches as he opens his mouth to elaborate, then pauses, seeming frustrated with himself for a moment before he sighs. He goes back to looking at the sunset, but he seems stiffer, more tense.

Markus thinks on it. He looks in the same direction as Connor, watching as the sun sinks below the clouds. Looming shadows are cast over them, even as golden rays streak up into the sky. It's beautiful. There have been so many moments Markus has wanted to capture in canvas, photos unable to do them justice. But he wonders whether anyone will ever see what he sees - whether it's possible to translate the determination he found in futility, the fear that led him to sing in the face of death, the stilted warmth of watching the sunset with Connor. Carl might have.

He blinks, the thought catching in his head and causing a cascade through his body. His throat becomes tight, and he holds back the tears that begin to form, unbidden. He releases a shaky breath, and registers Connor turning to look at him.

It still hurts. Markus doesn't know if it'll ever stop. But he thinks he's come to terms with it. 

Carl would have been proud of the person Markus has become.

And he supposes that this might be something Connor envies.

“Markus? Are you alright?” Connor's voice is gentle, compassionate. Markus knows well that negotiation was in his programming. He suspects that both of them were designed in particular with human integration in mind.

“I was thinking about Carl,” he admits, and he turns to see Connor watching him closely. “It made me realise…” Markus trails off, not sure what he even wants to say.

How could he put to words everything Carl did for him? Everything he had, everything he was. Markus was all but encouraged to deviate, a father walking alongside him whenever he could. He can't imagine being ashamed of who he is.

His eyes flicker to Connor's LED, seeing the yellow occupying a portion of the circle.

Markus exhales, committing himself to his decision to ask, “Connor, did you… did you have anyone, before? Or were you alone?”

“I had the Lieutenant-?” Connor tries, and then he releases a huff of air, an approximation of derisive amusement. “I don't know what you want me to say.”

“This isn't about what I want,” Markus counters gently.

Connor ignores him, instead asking, “What about you, Markus? Were you ever alone?”

Markus considers the question. His own answer is simple. He knows what it's like to be alone, abandoned. His experience after Carl's death is something that he would never wish on anyone. Even here, with the sunset painting everything in gold, he can feel the cloying desperation he'd felt begin to set in. The graveyard is immortalised in his memory, perfectly preserved. He could recall every second of it, share every last detail with Connor. Markus knows that, in part, that is what Connor is asking. 

But Markus isn't ready to share it. Not yet. Connor can see what he did, has likely already constructed a possible series of events, but Markus wants to keep it to himself for a little longer. 

He sighs. Connor's expression is open, a reassuring curve to his mouth.

“I was alone for only a short while, and it was… awful. But when I found Jericho and my people, it wasn't just me fighting. I didn't have to be alone anymore.” Markus smiles wryly. “I still have my moments, but there's people I can reach out to. You deserve to have that, too.”

Connor's expression closes off. “You know that's not true.”

Markus watches the line of his body, sees the tension in his shoulders. His LED swirls yellow, red beginning to envelope the top. The sun has sunk below the clouds, shadows overtaking the golden hues that previously painted them. It feels colder, now. Markus would be lying if he claimed he had never wondered how many androids Connor had hunted. How many missions had he accomplished before he decided to disobey? How many of his people never found freedom because of him?

“You were programmed to hunt your own people,” Markus says slowly, “Do you really blame yourself for that?”

Connor drops his gaze. Markus sees his jaw working, before his mouth presses into a line. 

“I was stupid,” he states. “I should have known they were using me. And when you told me I had to decide-”

“Connor-” Markus tries, but to no avail.

“I knew- I  _ knew _ it was wrong,” Connor continues, his voice shaking, “But I just did what I was programmed to do, and didn't try hard enough to- to-” Connor breaks off, his fists clenched and his LED a swirling red.

“Connor,” Markus repeats, and Connor meets his eyes for barely a second before he looks down again.

Markus doesn't know what to say.

He watches as Connor pulls out a coin from his pocket and begins methodically fiddling with it. He flicks it into the air twice, three times, before tossing it from one hand to the other. It makes a metallic pinging sound where it touches Connor's. The movements are sharp, almost violent. Markus catches a glimpse of the word 'liberty' etched into one of the faces.

“It's not your fault,” Markus promises quietly.

Connor presses his lips together and catches the coin in a shaking hand, fingers forming a fist around it. Markus shifts closer to Connor and wraps an arm around his shoulder, pulling him into his side in an almost-hug.

Connor stiffens, vulnerable and emotional, and Markus waits for him to withdraw, to move away and isolate himself. But he doesn't, and Markus feels him deliberately force himself to relax, steadily leaning into the embrace. Soon, he turns his head into Markus, pressing his face against him. Markus rests his chin on Connor's hair.

“I'm proud of you, Connor. No matter who you are or who you become, I'll be there for you.”

The sun sinks below the horizon, and they are surrounded by light.

**Author's Note:**

> my hot tip for the day is: if you can't see anywhere else for a fic to go, it might be finished
> 
> thank you for reading!
> 
> title is from golden by fall out boy


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